


The Call of Notre Dame

by nightwish435



Category: Silent Hill (Video Game Series), The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996)
Genre: Crossover, Fog World, Otherworld
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 04:06:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5191538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightwish435/pseuds/nightwish435
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the Court of Miracles, the tale of the gypsy mother whose life and child were stolen from her is a tragedy frequently shared by Clopin, the storyteller. Of the grim details of that story, nobody knows, not even Clopin. But when Esmeralda hears the recounting of the tale, the City reveals the horrible truth to her during what was meant to be a pleasant stroll in the streets of Paris.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Call of Notre Dame

“Gather ‘round, everyone!” Clopin shouted, drawing the attention of the other gypsies in the room. “’Tis story time once more!”

They all drew close to Clopin’s stage, a simple wooden platform where the utterly eccentric man performed stories and a wide assortment of parlor tricks. Each and every person surrounding the platform was watching and waiting eagerly, hoping for an especially good story.

“This, my friends, is a sad tale, and I must warn you youngsters, it just might give you a fright” Clopin began. “For you see, this is a tale that ends in grief, in misery for the brethren that we have lost.”

In the crowd, a young female gypsy with alarming emerald eyes listened intently, knowing all too well what her senior was referring to, for it was a tale that was discussed frequently amongst her peers. It was the story of one of the failed attempts to infiltrate the city to find sanctuary, and respite from their long-lasting persecution.

“Tonight, we honor our fallen beloved who tried in vain to flee to the safety of the underground. And even more, we give hope for the child that was lost that night, snatched from his mother’s cold hands.”

The lost child. Among the gypsies of the Court of Miracles, it was a legend that tore at the hearts of all who listened to its sharing. According to what little information had been shared from the tragedy that took place that winter night long ago, a fleeing mother had failed to enter the safety of the Church before being struck down by a monstrous man. She had been carrying with her an infant, who was rumored to have survived, and to even be the identity of the mysterious Bell ringer of Notre Dame.

“On that night, four of our people attempted passage into the City by means of the docks. When they thought they had safely reached the shores, they were ambushed by the guardsmen of that evil man, the ‘Minister of Justice’, Claude Frollo.”

At the mention of that name, everybody around the girl shuddered in fright. Judge Claude Frollo was known throughout not just their haven but the City at large as an evil man whose sense of justice was tainted by his perception that all but himself were nothing but evil. She had never met the man in person, but from what her family and friends had told her, she hoped that an encounter with him would never arise.

That man was responsible for the majority of her people’s suffering, for he and his men relentlessly pursued them, hungry for their annihilation. Why anybody could be so consumed with slaughtering so many innocents was beyond the girl’s understanding.

“Three of the gypsies in that group were bound in chains and dragged away, and their fates are left unknown to us. But as for the fourth member of that group, she fled, with her precious baby in her arms, through the streets and alleyways, as the Judge himself gave chase.”

“She fled to the heart of the city, to the massive doors of the Cathedral, pounding on the doors and begging for safety. But alas, her cry was heard to late. Frollo ran her down, and killed her on the very stone steps of the Cathedral, in the eyes of Notre Dame Herself.”

Weeping could be heard throughout the crowd, and she found herself tearing up as well.

“But as for the baby she was carrying, it was said that the Archdeacon saved him from destruction, just before the Judge could claim another life. Where he is now, none of us know. Though one can’t help but wonder if that child now lives way up high in the bell tower, ringing the bells for the entire City to hear.”

Clopin clapped his hands twice to signal that the story was finished, and the crowd milled away, each person quivering with grief and wiping away the streaks on their cheeks. Only the girl was left behind. When Clopin saw her staring up at him, he swung down from the stage and strode up to her.

“Ah, you there!” he sang, “you’re the one named Esmeralda, aren’t you?”

The girl smirked and told him “That’s me.”

“What, my dear, did you think of the tale?”

Esmeralda lowered her eyes and whispered “That poor woman…that poor baby…and nobody has seen the child since?”

“I’m afraid not, my dear. We can only hope that the Archdeacon, that holy man, guaranteed his survival.”

Esmeralda sighed, silently wishing that somebody could have prevented those lives from being taken. The cruelty of Judge Frollo seemed to know no bounds. How could any man kill so many and feel nothing?

“I’m…going to walk around for a bit” she told Clopin, wanting to be by herself and think on this. “I need some fresh air.”

“Well wonderful! Do be safe, though. And take supplies with you, lest you lose your way back.”

“I will.”

* * *

 

Once she had wrapped herself in a cloak and had filled her satchel with the things she would need if night fell on her unexpectedly, Esmeralda stepped out of the graveyard and strolled through the dark passages between the buildings of Paris.

It didn’t seem to be too late in the day yet, as the sky was a soft light-blue, not the dark midnight that came with the evening. Adding to the strangeness was the thick fog that was hanging over the City. It was so thick that Esmeralda could barely see without having to squint.

 _“This is ridiculous”_ she thought as she tiptoed across the cobbled streets, afraid that she would trip and injure herself. _“You never see fog this bad in Paris. What’s going on here?”_

Nobody else could be seen walking around. Esmeralda felt a chill run up and down her spine as she tried to remember what hour it was. Surely at least a few couples should be seen strolling together. And yet, she couldn’t hear any footsteps in the distance, only her own feet lightly crossing over each stone of the streets.

As Esmeralda continued to slowly traverse the foggy streets, her mind ran over the tale that had been told, and her heart clenched with grief at the thought of the mother whose baby had been stolen from her.

_“What an awful thing, to take away a mother’s most treasured possession, and then end her life. What kind of justice is that supposed to be?”_

_“That man says that we gypsies are the ones with ‘debased and treacherous’ minds. Does he refuse to acknowledge what he’s done to us? How are we the treacherous ones when he goes around trying to get us murdered?”_

At last, Esmeralda saw a figure blooming out of the mist several feet in front of her. By the silhouette’s slight appearance, it had to be a woman. Esmeralda walked towards the stranger, hoping to find answers about the odd weather. When she drew close enough to make out the details of the figure, Esmeralda gasped in shock.

It was definitely a woman standing in the distance, and a gypsy no less. She was draped in dark blue and purple shawls reminiscent of the sky at night. Her back was turned to Esmeralda, who was frozen in shock at seeing one of her people wandering the streets when nobody else was in sight. Whoever she was, she was still as a statue, and didn’t seem to be aware that Esmeralda was behind her.

It took a moment to calm her nerves before Esmeralda could make herself move closer. She hesitantly walked towards the woman, hoping to not spook her. She reached a hand out towards her, and took a deep breath before calling out.

“Hello there!”

The woman slowly started to turn around, glancing over her shoulder, but not enough that her eyes could be seen. Part of her shawl obscured her face, and Esmeralda had to fight the urge to not shudder from how unnerving the woman’s silence was.

Without any warning, the strange lady took off running into the fog, and Esmeralda gawked a moment before chasing after her. Whoever the woman was, she didn’t seem to want to converse. Esmeralda panted heavily as she ran, trying as hard as she could to not lose sight of her.

As she ran, Esmeralda noticed out of the corner of her eye that it was slowly but surely getting darker.

_“So nightfall has come at last then. I can’t stay out of the Court too long or I might get lost.”_

She continued to run, seeing the woman’s figure fading in and out of the fog, barely in Esmeralda’s line of sight. Esmeralda wanted to shout at her to slow down, but her lack of breath prevented her. To her shock, she felt something soft and wet touch her shoulders.

Esmeralda came to halt and whirled around in terror, looking for whatever was touching her. She could see nobody else around her, and her mind reeled before she realized that the sensation was now on her hair too. She looked up to the sky, and saw that snow was falling.

 _“W-what? That’s impossible!”_ she thought, her heart starting to pound. _“This isn’t the season for snow!”_

_“And if it’s really snow, why doesn’t it feel cold?”_

With just a light cloak wrapped around her shoulders, Esmeralda didn’t feel the slightest chill. The snowfall was slowly increasing so that everywhere around her, white particles flashed. They melted the instant they hit the ground, disappearing without a trace.

Esmeralda then realized with annoyance _“I’ve lost her, haven’t I?”_

Sure enough, as she ran forward, she confirmed that she couldn’t see the woman anywhere in sight. Esmeralda huffed and slowed down to her normal walking pace, irritated that she had spent her energy for apparently nothing. She didn’t recognize the area of the City that she was in. Here, walls of cobbled stone were on her right, and the river flowed to her left. Esmeralda noticed a small boat, big enough for only a handful of people, floating absentmindedly on the waters.

_“What, is this supposed to be a dock? Ridiculous, why would anybody want to dock here in this time of year?”_

And then Esmeralda went stiff with recognition as she recalled what Clopin had told her and the others earlier that day, that the 4 gypsies had tried to dock by the shores within the city and had been swiftly captured upon landing.

_“No…this can’t be…is it?”_

Her thoughts were interrupted by the distant sound of a church bell tolling out of the blue. Esmeralda shrugged, knowing that there was sometimes an evening surface at the Cathedral, heralded by the bells up high.

But then, more bells joined the noise, and Esmeralda couldn’t remember ever hearing a tolling so deep. Usually the bells merely clanged musically back and forth, creating a pleasing sound that all of the citizens looked forward to hearing day and night. Instead, the bells seemed to be ringing much more slowly.

Esmeralda looked in the direction of the Church as she heard even more bells joining the chorus. Without a doubt, she knew that whatever she was hearing wasn’t normal. The bells weren’t clanging, but rather reverberating together in an ominous tone that was rapidly descending into a terrible bellowing.

To her horror, she watched the sky begin to grow darker and darker as the cacophony became so loud that the ground underneath her feet was slightly trembling. Esmeralda clamped her hands over her ears and cried out as the sound roared all around her. After what seemed like an hour, the noise finally began to fade away, leaving a chilling echo in the air.

Esmeralda looked around her and shivered as she took in the pressing darkness over the area. She couldn’t even see her own hands.

_“What…what is this?”_

She fumbled around in her bag, desperately trying to find the torch stick that Clopin had given her before she went out.

 _“Let me tell you a secret, my dear child”_ he had whispered so that nobody else in the room could eavesdrop. _“These are a specialty of mine. Simply twirl it in the air, and what I’ve dabbled in will burst into life.”_

When she found the stick in her bag at last, she threw it into the air and nearly failed to catch it as one end erupted into flame.

With a source of light illuminating the area, Esmeralda could see that it was no longer snowing. To her chagrin, she felt a drop of water hit her head, and slowly but surely, the slightest rain began to fall. Thankfully though, it didn’t put out her torch.

She walked over to the water, and drew back in disgust when the light flickered over it.

_“It looks like…blood!”_

The river had somehow turned a hideous vermillion color. Whether it was because of the torch or something much more sinister, Esmeralda couldn’t decide. There was a sickly odor wafting off of the river, mixing with the rain’s scent into a revolting perfume. She scrambled away from the water, fighting the urge to retch on the spot.

 _“This is nightmarish!”_ she thought, panic choking her.

Her heart nearly burst when she heard a female voice cry out in the distance, near where the Church was. Esmeralda gulped, wondering if it was the silent woman from before.  With one last moment of hesitation, she began to walk towards Notre Dame, hoping that what she would see wouldn’t horrify her.

The rain continued to softly fall around her, slightly dampening her cloak. Esmeralda shone her light on the buildings around her, trying to see what else had changed. She shuddered as she recognized signs of decay on the stones and wood, and newly formed scarlet rust on the gates. When she raised her torch to the windows in the buildings above her, nothing could be seen except an eerie pitch darkness. Not a soul was in sight.

Slowly, she wound through the twisting back alleys, trying to use her memory of the City’s layout to guide her. Her torch was barely enough to let her see what was just in front of her. But even so, she was relieved to have something with her to show her way.

As she drew closer to the Church, she thought about the tale, trying to remember if Clopin had specifically said what had happened to the mother. All she knew was that both her life and child had been snatched from her by the hands of the Judge.

 _“But how exactly did she die?”_ Esmeralda mused, pressing her mind as hard as she could.

After several more minutes of wandering through the alleyways, Esmeralda finally emerged to the plaza in front of Notre Dame.

“Hello?” she called out, hoping that somebody was there, but also wishing that whatever she saw wouldn’t add to her terror.

There was no response, only the soft patter of rain on the cobblestones. She walked across the plaza to the well, and caught the slight scent of something metallic in the air. It was the same stench from the riverside, but much more concentrated.

She shuddered and whispered “Oh please, no…” as she walked closer to the well.

Sure enough, on close inspection, something red was dripping between the old cracks of the well, and a horrible gurgling sound was coming from below. Esmeralda couldn’t bring herself to look inside.

_“Why? Why is there blood in the well? Did somebody drain a corpse here?”_

Just behind her, she heard somebody sigh, and Esmeralda whirled around to see the woman, standing a few feet away from her.

“You!” she shouted, running towards her, determined to get answers this time. “Wait up!”

The strange woman fled towards the Church doors, and Esmeralda tried to match her speed. Her torch whirled in the darkness as she ran. To her chagrin, the woman disappeared within the darkness in front of the doors.

Esmeralda walked up the steps, panting once more and musing _“This is insane. But I need to talk to her!”_

_“For all I know, she might have answers to what’s going on here.”_

When she reached the doors, she took a moment to look around her. In front of her, the entire plaza was soaked in darkness, and Esmeralda was already grimacing at the thought of trying to find her way back to the Court through the void. Just as she was about to grab the door handle, she noticed something on her right, on the steps of the church. She stepped forward slowly, and then shrieked when her torch illuminated the sight in front of her.

The woman from before was lying motionless on the steps, fresh blood spilled all around her head. From the angle of the corpse, she had fallen backwards and cracked her skull when she fell. Her mouth was agape in agony and despair, almost like she had tried to scream one last time before her demise.

Esmeralda began to whimper, wondering what she was supposed to do. She turned to the church doors again, and thought about calling for help.

 _“She was murdered!”_ Esmeralda thought with a shudder. _“Right on these steps! Was she trying to call for help from the church?”_

Her eyes widened and she muttered “No…she can’t possibly be…”

The epiphany was broken when she heard a choked voice whisper “R-run! Run into the church!”

Esmeralda screamed and scrambled back as the bloody head gazed up at her, dark eyes boring into her own.

“Run!” the woman wailed again, and Esmeralda turned to the door, banging on it and screaming as loud as she could “Help me, please!”

The sound of galloping hooves echoed from the far side of the plaza, and Esmeralda tried to pound harder. No answer came from within, and her heart felt like it was about to explode. As the sound drew rapidly closer, she heard the woman on the steps wail something inaudible over and over again.

Esmeralda whirled around, knowing that whoever was in the church wouldn’t come to her aid. She saw the rider baring down on her, on a black steed that seemed to be a part of the darkness all around her. Red eyes locked her in place, and she shuddered at the raw malice emanating from the figure.

Just as she saw the rider unsheathe a sword and point it at her, Esmeralda finally understood what the corpse was saying:

“He took my baby!”

* * *

 

“Esmeralda!”

She woke up screaming in terror and thrashing at the sheets, unaware of the crowd gathered around her. Clopin was at her side, struggling to calm her down and restrain her before she hurt herself.

“Child, you’re ok! You’re here!”

“No! I saw him! I saw the monster! **He took her baby!** ” Esmeralda shrieked, feeling as if a furnace was burning within her, she was so hot.

After several moments of confusion, Clopin’s eyes widened in awful understanding


End file.
